


Life Finds A Way

by SinScrivener



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 16:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20585849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinScrivener/pseuds/SinScrivener
Summary: But also a conversation between me and the-creeping-shadow between Variants and the Asylum and such





	Life Finds A Way

Once well staffed and guarded, now overrun by madness and one for all.

Staff could not trust staff due to the madness taking their forms, nor could madness trust madness for in reverse, staff took their forms.

Only the close nits knew who from what.

Or those with minds still attached.

Those minds and nits took together or themselves what they needed, nits going after the things that moved, staff or madness, whilst minds hid and made homes for themselves, surviving in calm solitude for the time being.

Those alone alone just curled away unhidden but silent, cared not for what became, just minds lost, madness taken over, human nature at its cruelest.

Beggars for safety or help were common, some upon deaf ears got taken and torn, others helped and joined a nit or the minds now clearer.

Nothing seemed still as the madness spread.

Like a plague only controlled so long before killing off the antidote that tried to cure it, it spread and soon, ruled.

Bodies everywhere, parts now a normal. Screams of pain to terror to madness to loneliness echoed throughout the halls.

Messages written in blood, pictures of the Fathers of Mount Massive ripped to shreds. Glass from mirrors reflected a million and one of the same face. Blood dripping inside like the rain gailed outside.

Madness lost within, others taking it out upon others, repressed now released, satisfaction from a once bygone time, returned, a calm to some of their innermost demons.

\---

"YOU CAN'T HIDE!" A screamed call echoed up through the dumbwaiter and a body checking out the freezer turned and smirked behind his tattered surgical mask.

Another patient?

He'd just lost one, and in the middle of a breakthrough for science!

What luck~

Swaggering over, no rush nor care, he tapped the button and spoke in his calm, friendly voice to the body below, trapped like a rat, "Hey, can you hear me, get inside, I'll get you outta there!"

Bait set and chomped as the packs voices below yowled how they'd get the next one as the body inside the dumbwaiter lifted up to his 'savior' only to be met with a cheeky smiling face and a, "You made the right choice here, Buddy!" Then lights out.

The pack below had given payment, they'd be paid shortly, for now, they backed out of the room and retraced their steps back towards their 'den' a set up by the old Post Operation room, owned and guarded by the man they'd chased the meat to.

Settled back into a cozy nook just out of eyesight, they waited, listening as a body just beyond their home moved and made his own rounds, this meat to be left alone, the chains telling them all they needed to know and thus they rested two, one on guard over his packmates.

The owner of the chains moved along at a calm leisurely pace, eyes filmy, seeing shapes alone, nose torn to pieces, lips bared in a permanent snarl.

He'd make the pain stop, quick and painless, Judo taught in his Segment before going to Afghanistan, an art of pressing the point in the neck and quickly removing their head as they slipped under.

He'd make the pain stop.

His task self set to rid the Beast far below his feet its feast of the mortals of madness and staff running wild around him.

No set person was found, just an unlucky man in his path, the chains telling most to scatter, hearing them too late, your fault.

He moved into a cell block, hearing the rattles of cell doors as bodies, like animals in a zoo, screeched, screamed in different waves, or hid from his foggy sight further within their man made prisons.

A body was distracted, a staff he saw by the colors in the light. Distracted by the secret holder, wrapped for reasons unknown.

His turn would come, until then, his job was by the chained man himself, distract while he struck.

He made a connection and killed the man quickly, the body dumped and the secret keeper knowing this once living being would not be helping him with his itches anytime soon so slowly walked back to his cell room and sat back down. Maybe a friend would come soon? He could hope.

So many secrets sworled within his head but no one listened, just stared and told him he scared them.

Why did he scare them? He could not hurt them, could they not see? He could see, though his eyes, mouth, and ears were covered and his arms held close by this jacket.

Maybe they weren't scared OF him but OF him!? Sad, no friends than, ever.

He yawned, tilted his head and caught a new sound and walked after it, following this distant sound no one seemed to catch, but that was his way.

No one knew the things he did, no one listened, they feared him though harmless he was, all he wanted was a friend.

The wrapped bound man walked past a body in a wheelchair, this body golden crispy in texture, his toutre no, 'treatment' heat therapy to the max.

Like the secret keeper, no one really bothered him. He was crispy, sightless, tired.

He felt many go past him, no one stared, no one dared. If he felt he'd been stared at long enough, he'd spring.

He hated being watched, they had watched him cook, they watched but did not help.

Watching now only sent him into a rage. A weak rage to get them to stop, but a rage nevertheless, though easily taken down thus sending him crawling away, he hid until they'd leave and thus, the cycle continued, even now as the one self made 'Father' walked passed.

He sprang meekly and the Father gently eased him back into his chair, told him their Lord and Savior Walrider would help him soon, and started on his way, out into the lobby and over towards a nit pair of two.

Ones mouth sewn open/shut, the other jerky and spastic in his movements. They'd taken up the theater and music section respectively.

The Father minded their work, offering them some keys and a free passage through his territory in the rooms just upstairs, his 'Sons' places of worship open to the two creators if they needed and with a thanks from both by the single man, the Father walked on, humming a tune, images of the Second Coming filling his head as he moved past the Necrophiliac and his friend, uncaring of their actions, mind set on one matter alone, 'Follow the Blood'.

They two did not mind nor pay the 'Father' attention and kept at their sick pleasures, one working on the body the other, bound, watched, hungry.

The two did not pay mind to the thin painter, following the Father and admired his work, worshipping the bloody words upon the wall before him, touching the wall like some ancient treasure. The words, 'Down the Drain/Follow the Blood' an arrow of blood leading towards more madness below.

Forms swimming like the shits they were, to different parts of the hospital, seeking ways out unseen by outsiders.

Others made homes, set up shop and hid, others nit and hunted as the above.

Here, men climbed ladders to find dead ends, others marked paths in the direction of refuge, bodies like above, nothing new here down below.

Voices echoed for miles, how the bound secret keeper heard what he heard and was found moving along as two men, one named Cooper found yet another dead end, by one actually falling to his death after the ladder bar broke and crashed into the blood water below, the light above a mocking reminder to them, there was no God here as Coopers friend screamed for his friend above, now alone, now alone.

The secret keeper just stepped over Cooper and walked along, two voices in the darkness silenced by the thing the secret keeper heard when he slept.

It had caused all this, but no one listened to him or his secrets, so he walked along, being touched by noone and found himself outside in the storm, unbothered, uncaring, just walked past a small lonely group sitting around a fountain and thunder and lightning threatened to blast them at any second.

Like them, the keep of secrets didn't care and walked, listening to one sound for a moment, a squishy splurt of a head made basketball then targeted the sound he followed before and kept moving, leaving the basketball players to their game.

The players had teams of skins or shirts or get lost, those watching the game cheering in silence as the storm roared around them.

The shape of a cheerer caught running like a strobe light effect off towards the power tower, the static of the volts triggering the therapy he'd been given and yearning for them once more and climbed to the top most tier and laughed before jumping to his death, bypassing his want for therapy shocks and freeing himself eternally instead.

Flying past the secret keeper, the body smashed sickeningly into the ground below, a body the secret keeper past as he walked, watched this take place and sighed before heading off out of the rain and back into the Asylum, the Female Ward.

The buzzing of a saw overpowered the sewing machine, two sounds this Ward varied between and he walked softer, leading himself past the Vocational Block where for now, as he walked, the Groom had a victim thus let him sprint towards the large windowed sun room, three others there, looked up, then back to their silent worlds as he himself set up post by the rain washed window and stared outside once more, dripping dry, thunder overlaying the screams and saw behind him.

The Groom, as he was called worked on two things and two things only, making dresses, and making a BRIDE.

No women, no problem for the man, he enjoyed making his perfect Darling however, none of THEM fought hard enough to finish HIS perfect ending, as now he snarled and swung the body off the blood wood cutting table and pitched a fit.

A sound above him in the attic drew his attention only to divert as he found his inner peace and chose to retire to his sewing room to work on another dress. A Bride would come again, this time she'd fight, she BETTER, but until then, he smiled, humming a song playing on the radio beside him, a forever repeat, a song from boyhood, his mind set on making the perfect marital dress of his perfect Darling.

Above, silence as the source of it listened and found below to have gone quiet and carefully moved around his maze like attic.

Voices spilled out despite his desire to remain silent, a stuttered 'he can't know we're up here' is drowned out by a younger brother poking fun at the stutterer, a Father berating the stutter, and a Grandfather comparing his family, all one man speaking alone in his attic home, to a bunch of useless shit.

The body that held the family in his head glimpsed a file by his bed and sprinted away, the files title reading, 'Dissociative Dennis'.

All lies he was told as they shocked him to 'rid him of his other personalities' but WHY would he go through that pain, he always pleaded that before being strapped in.

They only smirked and worked upon him relentlessly, sending him foaming and jerking, tearing up as the pain surged through his thin body.

Once the madness began, people everywhere, he chose up, the highest place to be in a flood, a flood, a flood that would drown them all! Or so the stutter believed, the flood anyway that killed the family inside his head.

Up here he worked to herd goats downstairs in exchange for protection from the Man Below!

That was what caught his attention as he looked up and saw the secret keeper who smiled beneath his bandages, sharp unhuman like teeth showing as he moved slowly towards the multiminded man.

A friend, he would make this one of his friends, the voice the sound he'd heard from his cellroom lead him to this body! He'd be his friend!

Now just to get the other to listen~

Behind the secret keeper, he'd past a body trapped as a warning to all who fell down, all 'goats' of what would happen if they went further.

He heard his capture stammer about what he was doing there, the one that had past him not bothering to listen spoke in third person about a secret, itches they both had, and how together, they'd be friends.

The captured looked away and pawed uselessly for freedom, listening as the Man Downstairs stopped his work to walk over and attend to something and being locked above so long, he knew by voices it was the Doctor with the surgical mask and shears, the snip snip of the shears and the muffled voice behind the mask all he knew, nothing of what they said just the two below him met often, spoke, then split apart to their respective homes.

Below the captured man, the Groom and Doctor spoke. In the Doctors hands were diagrams of the female and male body.

The Groom beamed, bloodshot blue eyes shining and offered the Doctor to follow and only gladly did he, a rest from his own work a nice change of pace.

Working out how to do what, Teacher and Student worked, paying little mind to the forms slinking beyond, shadows looking for one thing or another.

Their own 'den' destroyed from above, they moved out, three members, to seek a safe place to stay.

The inky darkness, their bread and butter and moved without light, weapons of varying sizes in hand, a bat with nails one of them.

The three past the man with chains, giving him a wide berth, even leaving the area as the giant hunted.

The chains rattled ominously within the darkness, the man's eyes only seeing shapes heard the chains vibrating off the walls and walked.

No one here, the Groom in inadvertently helping his cause.

Good!

Instead, he walked along a path leading to one of the many cafeterias in the Hospital and smelled a reeking stench of burning human flesh.

He went no further and chose to walk along and forget the room entirely.

Inside said room a homeless looking man worked on cooking different body parts. Innards in one pot, toes and fingers in another, pickled tongues, eyeballs left to dry beside him.

The man made scars along his chest and belly showed strange things, no one understood, he'd been forgotten in solitary too long and thus lead to his need to eat anything and self discare.

The man cooking drooled and without feeling it, sank his teeth into a pulled forth colon and snapped it up, everything still inside it.

Licking his lips he chuckled deeply and wrapped upon the vent that caught the steam and smoke and woke another body resting inside the crematorium vent. The coolers used both ways always close together, one with the other.

Though man hungry, said man eater had made a friend or two and the man he woke crawled from out of the crematorium vent and stretched before going off, a body to be cooked shortly.

His belongings left, just some wood as a bed, maybe he'd find a mattress somewhere while he was out?

He climbed the stairs and past the wheelchair bound man, once more in his chair and snooped about the upper floors rooms.

Jackpot but in a different sense as a staff body moved, thinking it was safe and moved too soon and caught his eye.

He growled like an animal and readied himself to pounce, the man inside screened and shielded his face.

But to no use as velociraptor styled, the man in friendship with the man eater, killed him brutally, the body below him kicking and screaming and dying slowly oh so slowly, blood pooling below him as he stilled and died within the mouth and hands of the madness upon him.

The commotion caught the attention of the Twins, literal twins once joined at the hip. Their hive like minds worked out the man eater set off his friend and thus a new body was made as its result.

Both chose to wander into the cell blocks, C to be right and listened to the mutters and cries of those within.

They followed the Father and Walrider but still chose to indulge, choosing an unlucky man who spoke about Billy and the very Mountain this hospital was based upon and gutted him, two men smacking their heads stopped, watched the unlucky man die by their machetes then returned to their self harming, faces peering through scratched windows as the men ate the tongue and liver of the man then took it up and brought it with them as they stepped out of the cell block and carried on their way as a unit, passing a man hiding out in a bathroom.

A network had been made through the pipes, it lead to the first basement, sounds alone no voice.

The man in the bathroom sounded out that a kill had been made by the Twins thus it was safe to shift positions.

Below was filled with water, unsafe for the circuit breaker to be housed, but to the two changing places, they did not care, the Father said they'd be safe, the Walrider would keep them so and so they worried not, nodded to each other as they past, then the man in the first basement sat in the bathroom, as the man from the bathroom, sloshed around towards the back corridor of the first basement and slept.

In the exchange of the two men from basement and bathroom, in other parts of the Hospital, madness was held fast by the Doctor teaching the Groom. Screams silenced or muffled, feeble jerks and shakes of their binds just ebbing their strength.

In safer, cleaner rooms, minds slept, cared for in truth by the Doctor in exchange for help one way or another.

Some found tools, others bodies like the 'pack' in the post operation room.

Some dreamed of their torture, some of Walrider, others of nothing, very few of past good.

Upon the sound of the Doctor's return, the remaining half of a young mans face lifted and perked up.

Burns ruined both eye and ear, hair nothing but a myth upon the burnt side.

Only a single amber eye burned as the self harmed youth raced towards the older man and hugged him close.

Like a Mother and Son, madness/minds found something to keep close. The Doctor greeted the burnt youth warmly, handing him a can of soda before leading his 'child' towards a brightly lit bed bound man who cried out at seeing Doctor and assistant at his bedside.

The bed bound man looked up at the two and knew another round of hell was soon to come, in the back of his mind as 'Mother' taught 'son' the man watching his pain coming cursed himself for believing the lies of his once workmate.

His workmate the Doctor, sent into 'therapy' after a few mishaps. He himself...Had not vouched for him in his time of need.

This was his come back when madness spread, he'd sought help and found the Doctor and begged.

Ohh the joy the Doctor had, especially now that his 'son' had found him or the Groom came around to learn something new from his teacher about surgery.

Right now, the youth was being taught how to cut a hole into his chest! Oh how fun he had showing the young man the best way to use the scalpel and flay the skin.

He wanted to be a Doctor, no one did not know this when they met the man showing the youth how to now cut a Y shape along his chest from collar bones to lower chest.

Nothing eased the bed bounds pain, screaming got him a broken jaw and punches to the temple and throat, another lesson the youth learned whilst his 'Mother' was out, to make him quiet if he spoke to him.

Both looked upright at a sound and his own head landed upon the pillow, a heavy pained sigh escaping his lips as someone was coming through the Doctor's lair.

A nod to the youth, the youth hiding on the side of the door unseen, watched the Doctor seek out the sound and blurted out a false greeting of friendship.

A staff member brought past the door and out came the youth, the man they once tortured looked away and let darkness claim him, he'd be forgotten for now as 'Mother' and 'Son' dragged the body into his 'O.R' room and heard a soft click of the door as it closed behind them.

The staff member who'd been caught had been looking for a way out and fell into the trap of being chased.

The pack however did not expect a fight back and moved off when his baton came out and smacked one of them in the face and in that second ran off.

No one struck out, no one when they hunted! But knew, as soon as the elevator doors closed, he was the Doctors and so filed out again, but saw to their delight, the man eaters friend dragging out his own meat and fell upon him screaming and howling.

Unlike the staff member they had lost, the man in the crematorium vent jerked and pushed until he was free and raced off, two of the three running after him, one slashing his side, another the bottom of his foot.

Now they had a path, now as they took care of the won over body between them, they had something to seek once their lust rose again.

Racing ever racing, the friend of the man eater did not return to his place of living, no, he raced to the sewers, to wash off the blood. He had enough mind left to know the packs aim was to track and so, got rid of his very trace.

Overhead he heard a man pushing things around, nesting like and climbed the small set of ladder steps to see and found him working quietly and blinked.

The other saw him, smiled, but continued distributing his bedding and things around.

Funny to think of a home some place in such a hell on Earth!

In the bowels of the last basement, madness spread too.

Like above, they lived second by second, some worked together, others gave no shits and ran wild.

Staff tried HARDER here to be one of the madness or minds, but no one stayed fooled.

Change your clothes one way or another, those here in this version of hell knew and reacted.

The Engine Testers, the Therapy Runners, a strange nit of men all in some way, one body.

Their visions at random blurred by their nightmarish therapy, of Walrider, their being there and not above, they were the living guinea pigs!

Some escaped to the above, those still below gave no cares. That's all they remembered now.

A large nit had formed out of five men during the time below.

Their Leader, spoken out and violent towards staff members, worked on his unit with care.

Freeing one of the locks and getting him free of the Therapy chair, two others released from the labs, he himself, about to be put into shock therapy when this happened, now for the fifth!

However, found too late by the Leader he lay dead, shot by a staff member. The nit group of men cried out for their lost member, cradled his head, closed his eyes, and pulled him off the ground and towards the furnace room to free his soul from its broken dead body. He felt no more pain!

But the staff member who DID THIS STILL FELT! No matter the staff member, they'd fall as their lost member had, this, with their Leader behind them, all vowed and began their hunt.

Those getting freed of one room or another, found resistance from staff. A body alone was a dead body, so though not nits or packs, you see a lone form fighting a staff member, fight with them to free them of their torture.

Soon, the staff members numbers staggered, now they hid as the madness spread now sneaking up towards those above, a small nit watching TV just by the elevator used by upper staff members to go below, heard the commotion from the shaft behind them but paid no mind.

The static to entrancing to care.

Bodies sensing the falling of staff members numbers grew ever more ready to kill those they saw, some being dragged into offices and beaten to death, the silence soothing their troubled minds for the time being.

All around the hospital, one being above them all saw these things taking place.

A body in the deepest hell below the Mountain lay in state but breathed with help, heart pumping too, with help, watched through a demons own eyes as the madness spread, Like a plague only controlled so long before killing off the antidote that tried to cure it, it spread and soon, ruled

And it was because of HIM


End file.
